


City Too Busy To Haste

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Baby Driver (2017), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: (Buddy), (eventually) - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Are Baby and Eggsy dating or aren't they, Autistic Baby, Buddy kidnaps Baby and coerces him to do crime, Car Chases & Getaways, Crossover, Friendship/Love, Gen, Kingsman To The Rescue, M/M, Roxy and Merlin are definitely in this, So that's what sets the stage, You can pry Autistic Baby from my cold dead hands, drug use by a minor character, we'll never know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: The target gently removes one earbud, looks to Eggsy in baffled amazement like he can't believe that Eggsy is talking to him."I'm Eggsy." Eggsy says, holding his hand out.________Or in other words, the story where the ending of Baby Driver doesn't play out the same way, and the aftermath affects more than one continent.





	City Too Busy To Haste

**Author's Note:**

> Set towards the end of Baby Driver, where it diverges from canon quite obviously & post-Kingsman movie but disregarding its sequel The Golden Circle, since I haven't seen it yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buddy come back from the vending machine, throws a granola bar at him.
> 
>  
> 
> "Eat up." Buddy says.
> 
>  
> 
> Baby peels back the wrapper and eats, slowly.
> 
>  
> 
> More than anything, he wants a terrible cup of coffee and to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Fic Title named after one of Baby's cassette tapes
> 
> • Chapter One Title is lyrics from "You'll Be Okay" by Michael Schulte

 

Buddy is there, sitting at the bar of the diner. 

 

"Baby," Buddy greets calmly. He looks him over in a cursory glance and then pauses on the bag in Baby's tightly clenched fist. He smiles, something sharp. 

 

Buddy pats the barstool seat next to him with his free hand. 

 

Baby stares, wide eyes focused on the hidden gun. 

 

"Nice and easy," Buddy says softly. 

 

Baby swallows nervously, looks away deliberately from where Debora is anxiously staring over at the both of them. 

 

Baby sits down. 

 

"Good." Buddy breathes. "Now you and I, we're going to drive out of here. You understand, Baby?" 

 

Baby doesn't answer. 

 

"I need you to say it." Buddy prompts. 

 

Baby looks up. "Why would I do that?" 

 

Buddy's face twists darkly for a moment. "Listen," He says, a touch too loudly and then pauses. "Listen," He says, softer, "Don't push me. The love of my life is _dead_ because of you. Don't think that I won't return the favor." 

 

Baby looks at Debora, who has been standing frozen in horror this whole time.

 

Baby looks back at Buddy slowly. 

 

Buddy smiles. He raises his hands slowly, reaches forwards and gently removes the earbuds from Baby's ears. Baby doesn't say a word as Buddy uses the cord to pull at the iPod, takes it in his hands. He glances down at the song and his lips twitch upwards in amusement. And then he winds the earbuds around the device, looking at Baby with one eyebrow raised as he places the iPod in his own pocket and keeps it. 

 

"Do I have your attention now? Because if not," Buddy shifts, moves closers to whisper in Baby's ear as Baby holds himself so very still. "I'll kill her - " Buddy gestures one hand vaguely towards Debora, didn't even have to elaborate that far but still does. "- and then I'll kill that cripple."

 

Baby closes his eyes, eyelids clenched tight in frustration and anger and fear. 

 

"He can't be your dad." Buddy muses, leaning back now that he's on to a safer topic. He says it like it's obvious. Like the concept of not being blood related would matter to Baby. Like Joe isn't been more of a father to Baby in one day than Baby's flesh and blood biological father ever had been. "But clearly he means a lot to you. So. What do you say?"

 

Buddy cocked his head towards the door. 

 

"You want to go for a drive?" 

 

Baby licks his lips but still can't find the words to verbalize. 

 

Baby nods. 

 

"Great." Buddy says, nonchalant. He grabs his newspaper. "Grab the bag. And start walking."

 

Baby grabs the bag and starts walking. 

 

He looks over his shoulder at Debora, who is crying now, and damn if that doesn't make Baby want to cry too. 

 

Baby opens his mouth, tries to say goodbye, but he can't. 

 

Buddy shoves him through the door and into the night air. 

 

And then they're gone. 

_____________________________________

 

For all his talk inside the diner, Buddy doesn't actually want Baby to drive the car. Which confuses Baby at first, but he obediently slides into the passenger seat when told. He drums his fingers anxiously against his knee, fingers way more steady than he feels. He yearns to have his music but he doesn't say a word. 

 

Buddy drives them to a dingy motel. He shoves Baby roughly through the doorway when he pauses too long to stare dubiously at the flickering lights inside, their flickering shine eye catching but alarming. 

 

"I'd like to book a room." Buddy says, already at the desk as Baby recovers from stumble and picks himself off of the ground, palms aching but luckily not scraped. He picks the bag of money orders back up carefully, making sure none have fallen out. 

 

"One bed or two?" 

 

"Cheapest room you've got left." Buddy sidesteps the question. 

 

The woman nods, glances at Baby as he finally steps closer to stand nearer to Buddy's side. "If stairs ain't an issue, there's a room left in the basement with two beds. First night's one hundred flat. Each additional add on night gets you a five percent discount." 

 

Buddy considers it. "Three nights." And he counts out the money, spreads out the cash on the counter. 

 

She collects it, piling it in a neat stack and then she punches in the information given into her computer. "Last name?" 

 

"Leon." Buddy says, and the woman types something else in. 

 

"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Leon. Here's your key." She places the key on the counter, slides it over. "Room Three. Just down the stairs, and it's the last one that's unoccupied." 

 

Buddy smiles. 

 

The woman closes the glass sliding teller's window between them, the transaction over. 

 

"Come on." He says to Baby gruffly. "Down we go." 

 

_____________________________________

 

They stay at that motel for the entire three nights Buddy paid for. 

 

They don't leave the motel once. Buddy is the only one allowed to leave the room, let alone the basement level. And even he only leaves to make the occasional trip to the vending machines. 

 

Buddy says that they're lying low. And that they're going to keep lying low until everything blows over, and that's when Baby will start driving and carrying his weight. 

 

Baby shivers, the damp in the basement air pronounced and heavy. 

 

No matter how much he wraps the thin complementary blanket around himself, he doesn't get warm. 

 

He tries to think of Joe and Debora and believe that this is the place he's supposed to be, the best way to keep them safe. 

 

But sometimes he can't help wondering what would have happened if he had been able to make it to Doc's. If Doc could have stopped Buddy from taking him, if Baby was still valuable enough to him as a driver to fight for. 

 

No matter how long the time seems as it passes, Baby doesn't let himself imagine what would have happened if Doc had never come back into his life. If he had still been delivering pizzas, making Joe proud to be his father and Debora proud of him for being happy. Baby doesn't imagine it. Doesn't imagine a life where Joe would buy Baby a fidget cube when he went to the drugstore. Doesn't imagine Debora writing down songs to tell Baby about later, the both of them sharing headphones as they listen in half held breath. 

 

Baby coughs, the exhaled air coming out as wispy and semi visible. 

 

Buddy come back from the vending machine, throws a granola bar at him. 

 

"Eat up." Buddy says. 

 

Baby peels back the wrapper and eats, slowly. 

 

More than anything, he wants a terrible cup of coffee and to be home. 

 

_____________________________________

 

Buddy knows a guy. 

 

He knows a guy, and that guy knows a guy, and so on and so forth. So Buddy takes the bag of money orders and sends them down the line, waits for the magic to work. Soon enough, within a few months, Buddy, grinning cheerfully, comes back inside of the latest motel room that Baby suspects is long gone aways from Georgia by now, the way they've traveled the past months. Buddy grips a multitude of duffel bags full of cash triumphantly. 

 

"You and me are going to go make a deposit." Buddy grins, waving his handfuls of bags in the air. 

 

Baby nods, apprehensive, unsure of where this will lead them now. 

 

_____________________________________

 

Despite everything, Buddy still has access to a few of his bank accounts. 

 

He doesn't explain it to Baby, but Baby suspects that some of them have fake identities and the tellers are being paid under the table when they set up the accounts. 

 

However Buddy manages it, they drive to fourteen different banks and deposit nearly all of the cash. They spend the rest of the week with Buddy driving them up along the coastline, leaving states behind in the dust. 

 

_____________________________________

 

And then Baby can barely breathe when Buddy makes him suddenly go on the ship. It's not a small boat - it's a ship. 

 

And Buddy has a pair of passports and a charming laugh and he throws his arm around Baby's shoulder, who is terrified. 

 

"My son's just nervous. Not all there upstairs, either." He says, and he laughs with someone else. Someone else coos. Baby tries to tune it out, but the panic is building. 

 

"You better get to your cabin, then, eh?" A fellow passenger teases. "He might get seasick, on top of it all." 

 

Buddy chuckles, grips Baby tightly and pulls him along. 

 

Baby blinks, feet unsteady and heart racing. 

 

The ship lurches as it takes off. 

 

Baby nearly falls over, but Buddy hauls him upright as he throws open a door - their cabin door. 

 

Buddy guides him inside, closes the door quickly and then immediately lets go of Baby. 

 

Baby falls onto the nearest bed, dazed. 

 

"Where are you taking me?" Baby whispers. He stares down at his hands in horror. 

 

Buddy laughs.

 

But he never answers. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"I'll make you a deal, Baby." Buddy says suddenly, the next morning. The only reason Baby can tell its morning is because of the captain's morning greeting on the over-com speakers. 

 

Baby sits up, looks at him. 

 

"I'll give you _this_ \- " Buddy pulls out a small iPod nano from behind his back, earphones plugged in and trailing from it carelessly. And Baby takes a sharp inhale of breath automatically at the sight of the so very _familiar_ gadget. " - If you stay in your cabin for the rest of the trip. Sound fair?" 

 

"And I get to keep it?" Baby asks, making sure. 

 

"And you get to keep it." Buddy assures him. "And if you don't do anything stupid and if you behave, then I'll keep letting you use the charging cord." 

 

Baby nods slowly. "Okay." 

 

Buddy tosses it up, and Baby rushes to grab it from the air before it can crash down to the ground, heart pounding. 

 

"See?" Buddy says, without even turning around. "I knew you could be reasonable when you want to be."

 

_____________________________________

 

Baby makes a new playlist.

 

He closes his eyes, clutches the iPod close to his chest, and buries his face against the bed's pillow. 

 

His tears turn the pillow soggy and wet and altogether extremely unpleasant, but Baby doesn't move for hours. 

 

He just lets the playlist wash over him and then lets it repeat and repeat and repeat, and it soon becomes a familiar and comfortable safe haven. 

 

_____________________________________

 

The ship docks on a different continent. 

 

Buddy and Baby leave the ship with the two duffel bags that Buddy owned. 

 

"Come on." Buddy orders. 

 

Baby clutches on tightly to the iPod in his hand, lowers his eyes against the blare of daylight, and follows. 

 

_____________________________________

 

They settle into a routine, of sorts, once they arrive at the apartment. At least for the first few weeks. 

 

Buddy doesn't leave the apartment - won't leave the apartment. He claims that it's too risky. 

 

He sends out Baby to figure out the grocery markets and to navigate the brand new streets, to exchange the currency and figure it out. Every day that Baby leaves, Buddy reminds him of the gruesome threats that he can carry out upon Baby's loved ones if Baby doesn't return to the apartment. 

 

Baby feels somewhat like an errand boy, but it's better than on the days that Buddy decides he's not allowed to leave the apartment. On those days, he has to stay inside of his room and that pretend he doesn't hear Buddy getting high in the kitchen or the living room. He skips eating on those days instead of risking encountering Buddy. If Buddy sees him, he'll start cursing Baby's existence, start to throw things. Baby barely dares to go use the bathroom on those days, worried that he'll set him off. 

 

It all comes to a head on the fifth week when Buddy runs out of his drug stash. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"Baby." Buddy begins quietly, "Come here."

 

Baby pauses, unsure. 

 

"Come on." Buddy drawls, waves a hand over, like Baby and him are friends. "Take out your music." 

 

Baby walks over, slowly. Finally, he braces himself and removes his earbuds. 

 

"Do you remember," Buddy says, contemplative, as he swirls his wine glass in a small circle and then sniffs at it. "When you decided to come with me?" 

 

Baby blinks angrily and wills himself not to reply the instinctive _"I didn't decide to go with you."_

 

"Sure," Baby says instead, calm. 

 

"Well, I said that you would drive for me, didn't I?" Buddy asks. And then he continues before Baby can figure out how to reply to that. "Well. You're going to start driving for me. I've got a big job lined up for tomorrow. What do you say, Baby?"

 

Baby's heart falls to his stomach. 

 

"Alright." Baby says simply. 

 

Buddy snorts. 

 

"Go to your room and get some rest." Buddy ordered, even though it was still daylight out. "You'll need it." 

 

Baby nods, and he goes to his room, his stomach churning. 

 

_____________________________________

 

Buddy doesn't ever go with him on any of the heists. He plans them and orchestrates them and tells the crew of the week how to carry them out - but never, ever goes. 

 

"I'm not an idiot, Baby." He explains in amusement one day, as if Baby had asked about it. Which he hadn't. "I'm not going to let you do to _me_ what you did to Bats....what you did to Darling....To Monica...." 

 

Buddy's voice loses the humor and draws in, melancholy. 

 

"Go get me a coffee." He says, and turns to stare at the fireplace as it roars on, full of life. 

 

"Alright." Baby says. Sometimes Baby thinks that Buddy sends him for coffee just to get him out of the house, out of sight. Lately, Buddy sends him for coffee every time the dealer comes over, and Baby hurriedly leaves, relief flooding through him. Maybe it's pity or maybe Buddy's afraid that without the anchor of sobriety, he'll end up murdering Baby. Either way, Baby always happily takes some money and goes to get away. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"If you keep this up....We're gonna get caught." Baby says, after Buddy sends him out on a heist for the fourth day in a row. He stares at the table with a blank expression, hands folded across his lap tightly as he holds his breath. 

 

Buddy laughs, the sound automatic and false. "How can we get caught if they can't catch us. Baby?" He shakes his head. "All you have to think about is driving, okay?" His voice loses the laughter, darkens. "Don't think about anything else... Baby." 

 

Buddy suddenly slams his gun down on the metal table. Baby recoils, the noise piercing as it echoes through the room and his ears. Buddy laughs. 

 

"Just drive, Baby." Buddy repeats with a scoff. 

 

Baby wishes that he could drive far, far away from here. 

 

But instead, he just squeezes his fingers against each other and holds on. 

 

He waits until Buddy leaves the room to cautiously unwind his fingers and place his earbuds in his ears, to begin to tap out a soothing, drumming beat against his thighs as he tries to steady his breathing. 

 

____________________________________

 

Baby turns the hallway corner, comes to a full stop when he sees the man spreading lines of white across the kitchen counter tops. 

 

"Oh." Baby blurts out, heart thudding. He hadn't known that Buddy was expecting to buy today. 

 

"Christ. Just go and get me a coffee." Buddy says, lounging against the wall, and rubs at his nose in an absent minded motion. "Take your time."

 

Baby knows better than to protest. He nods quickly and goes back to his room. He takes some of the cash - that Buddy monitors and checks - that's he's allowed to keep for groceries, shoves it in his pocket hastily, and slips his shoes on. 

 

"You wanna buy?" The man asks, as Baby passes through the kitchen to leave to the living room. Baby freezes, looks at Buddy for direction, and then continues walking when Buddy merely sighs, annoyed.

 

Buddy rolls his eyes. " _I'm_ buying." He snaps, voice steady in that composed way of his. "What? I'm not good enough anymore for you now? You gotta start pandering to fuckin' toddlers now? With all the shit I buy, you should be kissing my fuckin' ass, not trying to score new clients in the middle of our fucking transaction."

 

The dealer begins to try to hastily reassure Buddy. 

 

Baby closes the front door. And he leaves it all behind - even if it's only for a little while. 

 

____________________________________

The fancy tailor shop, off of Saville Row, that they break into during the dead of night, honestly isn't even a blip on Baby's radar amongst comparison to the other, more dangerous heists. Baby doesn't even remember which shop it was after a couple of days. 

 

The _tailor shop,_ on the other hand, isn't nearly as quick to forget the crime. In fact, they don't forget - and the Kingsman Tailor Shop calmly, quietly goes about its business and bides its time. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"Now we have reason to believe that the incident a week back - " Merlin brought up a video of the shop being robbed and played it on the television monitor "- Is connected to the ongoing spree of heists you may have already heard about." Merlin explains as Roxy and Eggsy sit in the conference room. 

 

Eggsy and Roxy nod. 

 

"They think that there's only one main suspect, right?" Roxy says, looks to guage her corworkers' reactions at that particular piece of information. "The rest of the robbers are interchanged each heist, but one of them remains consistent." 

 

"Right you are." Merlin nods. "However, what we've discovered as of yesterday, is where that individual may be located." 

 

Merlin hands them the next packet. 

 

"This is him. He was confirmed in the getaway car from when our store was hit." 

 

Both Roxy and Eggsy stare at the photo of the young man. 

 

"You sure?" Eggsy asks, squints speculatively at it. 

 

Merlin frowns, gives them both a quelling look and continues. "He appears to be living with someone else - perhaps a relative. It's difficult to speculate because, so far, our audio hasn't picked up very much interaction between them. What little we have is mostly one-sided, but we think that it's possible he plans out the heists there in the apartment with the crew. Take a listen."

 

Merlin taps at his clipboard and a clip begins to play. 

 

"You're going to pull around." A voice says, slowly. 

 

"American." Roxy notes quietly. 

 

"You're going to be there waiting at the corner until all of you exit the building, and that's when you come and get them." 

 

"How long have you been monitoring them?" Roxy inquires. 

 

"Today marks the third day." Merlin sighs. "But with the shop potentially being compromised, we felt.... that a more preventative manner was to be applied, in this case."

 

"So what are we supposed to do?" Eggsy asks. "Bring 'im in?"

 

Merlin's face was impassive. "Extract the information, whatever means necessary."

 

"You don't mean - " Eggsy groans. 

 

"Congratulations," Merlin interrupts blithely, "You both are going undercover. Best of luck." 

 

"And what if he don't - you know..." Eggsy trails off, in an attempt to not be crude for once but still imply the unspoken question _'Is this a honeypot mission?'_ Eggsy's lips turn down as he bluntly blurts out, "What if he don't wanna fuck?" 

 

Merlin smiles. "Any means necessary. Feel free to get creative. You don't have to take him to a motel, for Christ's sake. Just apply pressure." 

 

"Pressure." Eggsy says flatly. "You want us to beat it out of him? Is that what you're saying? Come at 'im, fists flying before we know the whole picture?" Eggsy considers it. "Yeah, alright, whatever." 

 

Roxy shifts in her seat. 

 

Merlin sighs. "No, Eggsy. That's not what I'm saying." Merlin rubs a hand over his eyes tiredly. "Just - if push comes to shove, shove a little rough, alright?"

 

"You're the boss." Eggsy shrugs. 

 

Roxy eyes them both speculatively. "Well." She says. "I'm sure it won't come to anything that either of us - " She eyes Eggsy meaninglfully, as if to silently say something about him being soft hearted. Eggsy let out an unconvincing scoff. " - Are uncomfortable with. Because we'll have time to assess if he's a threat and neutralize him if so, while we're undercover."

 

"Alright, do we at least get some really fucking cool code names?" Eggsy asks. "I've been told a coupl'a times that I should change my name to Angel. What?" He blinks, as the other two agents turn to stare at him outright. 

 

"Well." Merlin clears his throat. "You get names, yes." Opening a briefcase at his side, Merlin slides two manilla folders across the table. 

 

Giving each other a look, Roxy and Eggsy both grab theirs. 

 

"Really?" Eggsy deadpans, setting the folder down. "Chad. Roxy gets sick name like Jade, and I get stuck with fucking _Chad?_ "

 

"You two can switch." Merlin offers, sounding unsympathetic. 

 

Eggys looks hopefully at Roxy. 

 

"Not on your life, Chad." Roxy replies immediately. 

 

Eggsy groans. "Fuuuuck." 

 

_____________________________________

 

Eggsy isn't even on the clock when he first sees the target. 

 

Roxy and him start the undercover work this Tuesday, and it's Monday morning. He had stopped at one of the many cafes near Harry's house after he had gotten ready for work. And, staring at the target he's coincidentally and by happenstance run into, as Eggsy waits for his hazelnut latte, he can't decide if this is really good luck or fucking awful luck. 

 

"Eggsy," The barista calls out, and the target curiously looks over, blinks, before he steps over to the line to wait. 

 

Eggsy grabs his coffee and silently curses himself. There's no way that the target is going to forget a name like Eggsy by tomorrow, when the plan had been to waylay the target and introduce himself as fucking Chad. 

 

Impulsively, Eggsy moves to stand behind the target in line, one hand reaching up to adjust his glasses - and to make sure that the broadcasting signal is locked on. 

 

The target turns, his eyes sweep in a wide arc and land on Eggsy's cup of coffee before they even look at Eggsy, head tilted in consideration. 

 

The target has earphones in, but Eggsy takes the chance to speak with him. 

 

"Forgot my scone." Eggsy says, grinning sheepishly. 

 

The target blinks, and then all at once seems to realize that he's been staring between Eggsy and Eggsy's coffee in a fluster. 

 

"Oh. Sure." The target says, and his voice comes out deeper than Eggsy had expected. Mostly because the deepness and twang to his voice don't match the audio recording at all. 

 

"I'm fucking useless before my coffee." Eggsy lies, still smiling, considers the situation. If the audio is capturing someone else's voice, then that means they might actually have pinned down _two_ of the culprits without having realizing it. 

 

The target gently removes one earbud, looks to Eggsy in baffled amazement like he can't believe that Eggsy is talking to him.

 

"I'm Eggsy." Eggsy says, holding his hand out. 

 

"I know." The target blurts out. And it takes them both off guard. The target, embarrassed, jerks his head toward the counter where a barista calls out a name and a customer comes and collects their coffee order accordingly. Of course. 

 

The target then slides his hand into an awkward, delayed handshake. 

 

"Baby." The target says, and it takes Eggsy a full moment to understand what the word means. 

 

"Your name is Baby?" Eggsy asks, and there's no way that the target isn't lying to him, fuck, he should have waited to approach him until Tuesday like the plan. 

 

The target's face settles into something more relaxed, less scrunched, when Eggsy says that - like it's a response he's familiar with. 

 

"Baby." He nods. "B-A-B-Y, Baby." 

 

Eggsy nods as well, even though he knows the target has to be lying. 

 

"One black...medium coffee." The target orders, eyes darting over the menu but not seemingly reading it. 

 

"Name?" The barista asks. 

 

"Baby." The target answers easily, immediately, not even glancing away from the menu. 

 

Eggsy's eyebrows raise slightly. 

 

The target pays and moves to wait to the side to wait for their coffee. Eggsy follows. 

 

"So you're really named Baby?" Eggsy asks, tone light. "I bet that makes it real easy to pick people up. 'I can be your baby' type of lines, yeah?" 

 

The target frowns, his eyebrows furrow as he stares at Eggsy. His mouth opens, like he's about to say something but then he changes his mind. But his face is more closed off than Eggsy has seen it so far, eyes tense and mouth drawn tight. 

 

"What?" Eggsy asks, and then realizes. _The scone._

 

"Ah shit. Not again." Eggsy mutters, makes a show of staring at his coffee and lamenting hus lack of a scone. "Maybe I should just be happy with my coffee, yeah?" 

 

"I've gotta go." The target mumbles, agitated. 

 

And fuck that's not a good sign. He wasn't even going to stay and wait for the coffee that he had already paid for - definitely suspicious. 

 

Eggsy scrunches up his face. "Oh, that's a shame." He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Can I give you my number?" His eyebrows raise up in high arches as he bites his lip, waiting for an answer. 

 

But the target just shakes his head. _"Sorry,"_ He says, and he looks like he wants to add more but he doesn't know how. And so he turns to leave without a word. 

 

"Maybe next time?" Eggsy calls out after him just as the door shuts. 

 

Well. Shit. That could have gone better. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a oneshot, but I'm way too excited to get it out there. So it's Proabably going to be three chapters, depending on how I space it out. 
> 
> When I saw Baby Driver, I was so heartbroken by the severe lack of Autistic Baby fics to binge read. So I'm getting this up and going instead of making it a oneshot in case anyone else scrambles to check right after they watch it.


End file.
